


Fate's a Bitch

by TheAuthorGod



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Growing Up, Human Castiel, Human Gabriel, M/M, Palm Reading, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAuthorGod/pseuds/TheAuthorGod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean developed his marks early, the doctors thought it was spectacular.  When it was confirmed that it was his fate line that his soulmark followed, it baffled 2-year-old Dean.  People didn't have marks on their fate line; they had their soulmarks on their heart line or their life line or their marriage line - anything but the fate line.</p>
<p>But Dean gave up on fate a long time ago, maybe when his mom was killed, maybe when his dad turned to alcohol, maybe when Sam left him too.  His fate line marks had vanished a long time ago.</p>
<p>Fate's funny though.  Fate's a real bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fate's a Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> UNPROOF'D. UNBETA'D. Mistakes are mine; characters are not.
> 
> Enjoy! :D

When children are born, they have little hands. Hands that will grip and touch and hold. When the child reaches 6 and their ideas about the world solidify, mark appears on their wrists and hands, one on each.  
  
Dean Winchester was exceptionally bright. His marks appeared on his hands at 2. The Doctors said that he was just a particularly early blossomer. It burned and itched. “Momma, what’s wrong with me?”  
  
His mother smiled at him with a sad lilt and told him that he was perfect. He had an initial written on each of his wrists, a ‘C’ and an ‘N’. Much like the swirly, calligraphic initial letters in old books, these letters were intricate, woven with various vine-like lines. The ‘C’ was blazoned on a flag with rainbow horizontal stripes and the ‘N’ had small dotted lines headed up by bees.  
  
One of the swirls from each letter reached into his hand and ran along his fate line. He would trace it. It was unlike the lines that other kids had. Most kids had their life line or their heart line traced by the soul mark. On one hand it traced the line that meant the most to your soulmate and the other traced the line that meant to most to you. Most people believed in their heart or had faith in their head.  
  
When Dean’s mother died, he dug his nail along the line on his hand.  
  
He wondered how he would come to respect fate when it had taken his mother away.  
  
\---  
  
Many years later, after Sam had gotten his marks, after their father turned to alcohol, after Dean had dropped out of high school, after Sam had left for college, after everyone else had found their mates, Dean found himself thinking that fate had actually bested him.  
  
Fate had managed to take away everything. Life was her sidekick and Dean couldn’t believe that he had believed in the crap.  
  
He hissed and bit his hand throughout the day. He wondered if something was wrong with his tendons or if he had sprained his wrist. He kept having to stop and flex his hand.  
  
It was that day that he watched the line on his right hand, his dominant hand, fade. He gave up. He shook his head. He wondered if that was a bad thing. He wondered if he had lost his soulmate. He briefly thought about going to the doctor about it but decided against it.  
  
Fate won.  
  
\---  
  
Less than a week later, Dean’s other had experienced the same pains that his right one had. He didn’t look at it and he didn’t need to. He knew that his soulmate had given up on fate, too.  
  
Fate was a bitch.  
  
\---  
  
Dean moved out to Sam when the garage closed. Sam had finished school. Sam had found his soul mate. Sam was happy. Sam had the girl of his dreams.  
  
He was everything Dean wasn’t.  
  
His soulmate’s hands were the reverse of Sam’s. She showed them off. Before Dean could stop himself, he reached out and traced the ‘W’. For the first time in years he was reminded that someone, somewhere had a probably very similar ‘W’ on their wrist. One that reached up into their hand but no longer traced the fate line.  
  
Jess didn’t pull away. She sat still and watched Dean.  
  
Realizing that it wasn’t common practice to touch the marks of someone other than your soulmate, Dean retracted his fingers and glared at the floor. “Sorry.”  
  
She smiled. “It’s okay.” She fiddled with her beer bottle. “Sam says you’ve had yours forever.”  
  
He rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t remember.”  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Jess clucked at him shortly. “When did you get yours?”  
  
Dean licked his lips and clenched his jaw. “Forever is good guess.” He took a long pull from his beer.  
  
She smiled. “Did you ever wish that you knew them?”  
  
Fate hadn’t let him. “No.” It was clipped and Dean knew it.  
  
Jess sat back in her chair relaxing a little. “I didn’t know that Sam had a brother until the other weekend. He said that you were coming out and I was taken by surprise. You’re still surprising. You’re nothing like Sam.”  
  
Sighing heavy, Dean slumped into the chair.  
  
“It’s refreshing.”  
  
Dean looked at her and scrunched his features together in confusion. “Refreshing?”  
  
She nodded. “Yeah, I mean, Sam’s a bit all over the place. You seem really grounded. How much older than him are you?”  
  
“4 years.”  
  
“Really? No wonder he gets along with Gabriel.”  
  
Shaking the rest of the guilt from his shoulders, Dean breathed out. “Who?”  
  
She motioned her hand in a sloppy circle. “He’s a lawyer. He works at the same firm. He’s a bit of an asshole; but, Sam seems to enjoy his company.” She leaned forward and added as an aside. “He likes to break rules.”  
  
Dean laughed. He took another swig of his beer.  
  
\---  
  
It wasn’t Dean’s idea to go to the damn get together. He knew it was bad manners and he knew it was rude. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for Sam and Jess; he just didn’t want to go to an engagement party. Who was preppy enough to even have those?  
  
Sam bitchfaced Dean from the seat next to him like he could hear his thoughts. It may also have been because Dean had taken about 10 pieces of chicken wrapped with bacon from the hors d’oeurves plate. Dean made a face back.  
  
Watching the chicken and bacon things make their way around the room, Dean kicked his feet up on the ottoman. Dinner wasn’t for another hour or so. It was a time to ‘mingle’ as Sam kept saying.  
  
The door opened to two other people. Dean wasn’t sure how many more people they could fit in the living room. Sam rushed up to the door to let them in. Dean almost laughed out loud when the taller of the two grabbed a handful of cheese and popped some into his mouth. The shorter one swatted him but rolled his eyes.  
  
“Hey, Dean.” Sam waved him over.  
  
Glowering, Dean stood and trudged over. He held out his plate of now 8 bacon wrapped chicken pieces. The one with the handful of cheese took one and dumped half the cheese on Dean’s plate. Dean shrugged.  
  
Sam bitchfaced again. “Seriously?”  
  
“Yes, if there is free food, I eat it.” He picked up a piece of the cheese and put it in his mouth. He chewed carefully and tried to funnel all of his frustration at the party to Sam, before turning to the guests. “Hey, I’m Dean.” He waved and put piece of chicken into his mouth; it gave him a reason not to talk.  
  
The shorter man rocked onto his toes then back. His shiny shoes reflected the light at Dean’s face. “I’m Gabriel.” There was pause. The other guest simply chewed and looked at Gabriel with a smug look. Gabriel rolled his eyes. “This is my socially deft, ‘b’-loving brother.”  
  
Dean grimaced. “’B’-loving?”  
  
The brother, around Dean’s height turned his eyes in his direction. They widened at the sight of Dean and Dean found that it made the vivid blue that lived there spark to life. “Don’t misunderstand. My brother means the buzzing insect not ‘b’ as in bitch. I don’t like women.”  
  
Gabriel rolled his eyes and spoke lightly to Sam. “I did say socially deft, right?”  
  
Having trouble looking away from the blue eyes in front of him, Dean scoffed. “My night just got more interesting. You wanna go somewhere private?” Dean was used to picking people.  
  
Sam hit him on the back of the head. “I hope you mean the Impala and not your room.”  
  
Dean smirked at the ground and bit back the comment about kinky car sex. When Dean looked up, the man’s face had pulled together in confusion. “Impala? As in a '67 Chevy Impala?”  
  
It was Dean’s turn to be confused. “Yeah, she’s a really beaut. You see her outside?” Dean was surprised that the line had worked so well even with Sam fucking it all up. “You wanna see, Baby?”  
  
The man froze. Dean wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. He looked to his brother then to Gabriel. Gabriel was looking at him; his eyes smoldered with a question that Dean couldn’t read. Dean clenched his fists instinctively.  
  
The frozen man shook himself out of whatever he had been caught in, a memory or a nightmare. “My name is Castiel Novak.”  
  
Dean’s head twitched; the same as it did every time he found out someone had the initials ‘CN’. It was pretty useless really; lots of people share initials. But, Dean thought harder. The ‘N’ on his wrist under the leather bands was surrounded by bees. He swallowed. “Good to meet you, Cas.” He turned and walked into the too full room. His head was swimming a little. It had to be a simple coincidence.  
  
But, Dean felt the nagging in the back of his head, Dean didn’t believe in coincidences.  
  
Sam hurried to his side and nudged him. Sam was confused and Dean felt a little guilty. Sam had probably forgotten the letters on Dean’s wrists. Dean never talked about them and always covered them. Sam smiled. “I made sure that we had pie for tonight. It’s just for you.”  
  
Feeling some of his upset disperse, Dean turned around to try and make a better impression to the Novaks. He was stopped dead by fearful blue eyes. Cas had stopped in the middle of the room and was staring at the floor at Dean’s feet.  
  
Dean gritted his teeth.  
  
Gabriel was looking at Cas with a concerned expression and it tore at something in Dean.  
  
Watching, Dean figured it must have been because he was tuned into Cas’ movements; but he saw the sharp intake of breath and a twitch in his right hand. Dean waited. He didn’t want to feel the burn in this left hand.  
  
But he also, really _really_ did.  
  
He wanted to be proved wrong one more time. He wanted what Sam had. He wanted it all.  
  
The burn started in his left hand and he clenched his fist hard at his side. He didn’t want a chick flick moment; but, he felt tears sting his eyes. He strode over to Cas. He grabbed Cas’ hands and flipped them to see the insides of his wrists. Cas had them covered with tight shirt cuffs. Dean torn them each open, popping the button.  
  
Cas started shaking his head and tipped his head back.  
  
Staring at Cas’ wrists, Dean cataloged what he was seeing. A ‘D’ with the latticing of an apple pie filling half of a pie plate and a ‘W’ making the front of what was recognizably a ’67 Chevy Impala with a swirly word under it, ‘Baby’. Dean’s breathing picked up.  
  
Why did this happen? Why would it happen this way? The sting in Dean’s left hand got harder to ignore. It wasn’t a chronic dull pain like the last time; it was sharp and fast-moving. Dean looked at Cas and was met with a column of neck. Dean closed his eyes.  
  
How did he get here? How did this-? Sam was happy. Dean had found his soulmate. He had lived through all this tragic to end up here at some sort of happy ending. What is this?  
  
It snapped. Dean felt it. It had to be fate.  
  
Dean reached up to Cas’ jaw and pulled it down to make Cas look at him. Cas eyes were filled with tears threatening to fall. Cas’ eyes avoided Dean’s and looked toward Dean’s wrists. Dean pulled at the wrist bands without looking away from Cas’ face. When his wrists were bare, Cas’ eyes filled more and tears broke away down his cheeks.  
  
Cas traced where Dean felt pain in this right hand. He followed the reforming line down to the ‘N’. he traced over the ‘N’ and turned his head to kiss the other wrist.  
  
Somewhere in the back of Dean’s head he knew that they were in the middle of an overpacked room; but, Dean couldn’t bring himself to care. It was fate.  
  
Dean surged forward and kissed the lips in front of him. They kissed back.  
  
When Dean rocked his chin away and pushed his forehead to Cas’, he listened to the sounds around him, Cas’ breathing, a few wolf-whistles.  
  
“I found you.” Cas sounded wrecked.  
  
Dean nodded. “Fate’s a bitch.”  
  
Their moment was broken abruptly. “I didn’t know you were gay, Dean.”  
  
Dean snorted and looked to Sam with a raised eyebrow. “I never hid it.”  
  
Incredulity written into his mammoth features, Sam shook his head minutely until comprehension dawned. His face pulled up into an expression of childish disgust. “You mean…”  
  
Nodding, Dean turned back to Cas and pulled him into him. Cas made a little noise that melted something in Dean that he hadn’t known was frozen.  
  
Dean threw a pointed look at Sam. “I had all kinds of people over.”  
  
Sam shuddered and Gabriel laughed from some place to Sam’s left.  
  
Ignoring Sam’s theatrics to realizing what exactly Dean’s ‘friends’ had been in high school, Dean kissed Cas again. Because he could. Because fate had a change of heart.  
  
“What did I miss? The hell, Dean?”  
  
He didn’t let Jess’ exclamation break his second kiss with destiny.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Bonus:  



End file.
